Not really a fix
by bhut
Summary: A S8 story that isn't really a fix-it. More like its' crackheaded cousin. On the other hand, no one dies, except for Dany. Ouch.


**Not really a fix**

_Disclaimer: all characters here belong to their proper owners, really._

"Well!" said Cersei.

"Okay!" said Cersei.

"I really hadn't seen it coming," said Cersei.

"So what's going to happen next?" she asked, sounding more like her fake coy self than she ever did since Robert died.

The others, (excepting, perhaps, Jon Snow, who clearly was having his own issues here) stared back at her with varying degrees of hostility and/or mistrust.

FLASHBACK (between episodes 8x03 and 8x05)

Brienne of Tarth awoke because she was actually feeling a draft on her side, and there was a murmured conversation in their room, 'their' being 'her and Jaime's'. Since one of the interlocutors in the murmured conversation was a woman, Brienne immediately woke-up, because obvious reasons.

"Good morning!" Arya Stark cheerfully replied from her position – she was the other woman in the room, it seemed. Since she was obviously not interested in any Lannisters, Brienne relaxed…before other possibilities for Arya being here came to her mind, and none of them were any good.

"Good morning," she replied nonetheless, (because she was that sort of a woman), before getting to business. "Why are you here?"

"Me and the Lannister here," Arya jabbed in Jaime's directions, who clearly was unshaken by Arya being here being armed, "have been talking about king-slaying and the like, and you came up, because you're our friend and all."

"Aha," Brienne was not buying this. "Where are you going with this?"

"We think that it might be the time to slay a queen instead."

"Which one?" Brienne refused to be tricked, since there were several queens in Westeros right now.

"Guess!" Bran Stark, who really should not have been here, said brightly.

Brienne whirled around and saw…Ghost, who gave her a jaunty wave. "?" she asked no one in particular.

"Jon let him go, I'm warging in him, because he's one of us," Bran explained via Ghost. "Can we move on?"

"Why the need, why the secrecy, why-" Brienne sputtered, as the others gave her pitying looks.

"This is Westeros," Jamie finally responded. "When any important decisions weren't done in secrecy, here?"

"…Good point," Brienne confessed, thinking over some of her own past experiences. "So what is the basic plan so far?"

"They told her.

FLASHFORWARD (now)

"…Okay," Cersei muttered, mentally visualizing very clearly as to how it could have been her instead of the Targaryen queen lying dead here. "So what happens now?"

The looks that greeted her again were mostly sullen and hostile. "Just saying," Cersei said brightly, here and now seemed like the right time to kiss-up. "The Lannister forces have surrendered, remember?"

"Now Snow here will get to be king," Jaime said flatly, "Tyrion here can be his Hand, like our father did with Aerys, and the rest of us will probably go north."

"Good idea!" Sandor Clegane, who himself had apparently survived his final showdown with his brother, joined the posse. "Bad news people – Varys has survived and is currently busy with Qyburn having a fight…or something or other. What it means to be a eunuch, apparently."

"Qyburn is a eunuch? Makes sense, I never remember him having any interest in anyone, alive or dead," Jaime looked thoughtful.

"What do you mean, dead?" Arya stared.

"He was my sister's necromancer?"

"Oh dear, why do they always do that," Arya muttered as she unsheathed her sword and dagger again.

"No need to – I got him firmly under control!" Varys called over the still somewhat damaged city of King's Landing. "Thank you very much for suggestions, though!"

"How could he-?" Arya blinked.

"Baelish was certain that Varys is a Blackfyre," Jaime shrugged, "which is kind of like a Targaryen, only not. Ergo, he has some powers of his own…and you now get to deal with him, Your Grace," he nodded to Jon, "brother," he looked at Tyrion. "Good luck!"

"Thank you, really," if looks could kill, Tyrion would kill his older brother already.

"Don't mention it. Seven Hells, you even have Cersei to make you feel like the old times!" Jaime said brightly. "Anyone else got unfinished business here?"

There was a serious of general nods of confirmation that yes, they were done here. "Then let's go!" Jaime said brightly and off they went, away from King's Landing and the South, leaving Jon Snow alone with the other Lannister siblings.

Jon just groaned, muttered something about Ghost and Bran and bad choices and head-butted a nearly wall in despair.

"This brings back memories," Cersei muttered as she looked at her other, height-challenged brother. "Well-familiar ones. Come on then, let's get him to the palace and wait for Varys to slither in." She grabbed Jon by his collar and pulled. Jon was mentally misbalanced and upset enough not to resist.

"Oh yes," Cersei muttered, "I outlived Robert and his drunken binges to do the same thing to a new king who actually does them while being sober. I think I will ask Qyburn to resurrect father so that I could kill him again, this time. The glamor and power of a queen, my arse!"

"We're busy!" Varys called out, his voice implying just what he and Qyburn were doing – even eunuchs had needs, it seemed.

Cersei and Tyrion exchanged horrified looks, grabbed the still-oblivious Snow under arm each and raced him to the palace. Clearly, they had a long road to go, if they were to get out of this mess, (as opposed to the one made by Qyburn and Varys) alive and sane.

And they only had Jon Snow right now to work with.

The end?


End file.
